To all whom these matters reach, greetings; it is with mixed emotions that I now release these turbulent confrontations from the inner sanctum of their cranial prison and transcribe them first as electrons beaming through thin strands of copper, and then through a vaccuum and onto a glass screen; for the first time they seem to have substance. I will transmit them to a mechanical robot which will unwittingly become my slave. Somehow they are clearer and appear more real; what a strange and wonderful feeling to see your most intimate thoughts, no longer hidden behind your eyes. Instead, printed out in front of them, where one can further elaborate upon them and analyze their content in one's convenience and discresion. It once again reminds me of the varitable maze that exists within this mass of simple and individual cells which collectively form my own individuality. I am swept up and threatened with destruction by a tempest of thoughts and emotions which are a product of my own mind. I am amazed that I am facing extinction, not as a result of another, but instead I am engaged in a form of combat totally dissimilar to any I have experienced to date. I am at war with my own mind, thoughts, and emotions. I cannot discern whether I am dying or being born. Possibly both simultaneously. I cannot hope to survive this ordeal intact and cannot decide even if I wish to.
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